


A PR Million Clients Would Kill for

by saiansha



Series: Scandalised [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Creepy Loki (Marvel), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-03-01 07:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18795943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiansha/pseuds/saiansha
Summary: Jaded, lonely and bored, Loki wonders what good this newest PR could do to rehabilitate his public image. But he should reconsider, because this time, he's stuck with someone who is apart from the crowd. She's a PR a million clients would kill for.And someone might end up getting killed for real.The Loki POV that nobody asked for, capturing select moments of my ongoing story,A Job Million PRs Would Die for.





	1. That Time We Looked Up Her Skirt

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here it is. Another story that I'm starting and going to be updating god knows when. I don't know if I've done justice to Loki's POV in first-person, so please do leave constructive criticism. I love experimenting with POVs and formats, so feedback is always welcome.
> 
> Read it on [Tumblr](https://saiansha.tumblr.com/post/184815618637/a-pr-million-clients-would-kill-for-ch-1).

Back on Asgard, had someone asked me what my favourite day of the week was, I would have laughed in their face. All days were the same. What mattered was what you made of each day. My days – and weeks and months and years – were either long stretches of peace and solitude, filled with reading and learning; or feasting and hosting and celebrating; or wars and campaigns. Little changed on Asgard from day to day. And really, what was a week or even a year? The definitions varied from place to place, planet to planet.

But, here, in this ugly tower in this ugly city on this ugly planet, the question is pertinent. Here, my favourite day is Sunday.

It is the day when Stark slept off his drunken stupor late after noon. My brother, out of deference to his mortal, would spend the day away from Mjolnir and the fighting pits, choosing to spend the day with her instead. Even the righteous Rogers would treat himself to a reprieve, opting to acquaint himself with the aspects of Midgardian ‘culture’ – ha – that he had missed during his icy slumber. The assassins would still train, but would also spend time on the lower levels with their lackeys. Banner was the only one whose routine did not change. Quiet and early as ever, he would work away in his laboratory. 

It made no sense. There was no logic behind appointing special significance to certain days. Then again, as a Prince I had had the luxury to do as I pleased, when I pleased. But here, on this prick of a planet, these mortals – and I, now that I had the misfortune of living with them – had to adhere to norms set by the people before their time.

On Sundays, the Tower was quiet and that was why I was fond of the day. I could roam through the upper floors at leisure without worrying about catching a glimpse of their idiotic faces. The silence extended beyond my own chambers and I was glad of the opportunity to walk through the halls unquestioned, unbothered and unhurried.

But today was different.

Stark was up at this hour, pacing restlessly around two of his henchwomen in the kitchen. They were Stella Lee and another whom I knew by face. Stella’s face was as unwelcome a sight as Stark’s. The woman and her host of jesters called ‘PRs’ had done the very opposite of endearing me to the mortals. Stark’s experiments to change the perception of me had only been a drain on his money and my patience, yet he insisted on this fool’s folly. I thought that finally, _finally_ , Stark had got the message after his sixth attempt but it seemed that his skull, too, was made of iron.

As I observed the scene from one of the viewing galleries above the floor, out of anyone’s line of sight, the elevator doors parted and the candidate emerged.

She was young. I could sense the nervousness pouring out of her. Even Thor, being as oblivious as he was, would be able to tell that she was painfully green. She looked as if she could not herself believe how she had ended up here. My previous PRs, veterans of their trade, had not lasted more than three months at most with all their experience and self-assurance. What was Stark hoping to accomplish with this chit?

“Ah, there you are!” Stark bellowed and I winced, already missing the silence. “Thought you had copped out and decided to sleep in. Wouldn’t have blamed you if you did, I can’t imagine why I told you to come at this time of the day.”

“Good morning, Mr. Stark,” the girl said. “Thank you so much for asking me to be here. I know it must not be often that you ask people in person if they would like to work for you.”

Well, at least she knew how to speak. Still, the tremble in her voice and the stiffness in her words told me that she would last long as an ice cube in Muspelheim.

I slunk back further into the gallery, uninterested in watching the girl stumble through the interview only to be rejected. I could hear the faint murmur of the conversation even from my current location. It annoyed me, but I knew there was nothing to be done till the girl departed. It would not be long anyway.

That was what I thought until I heard my name.

Curiosity instantly replaced annoyance as I walked back towards the main hall. The girl had not left. It was clear that Stark had mentioned my name to her. Perhaps she was not as doomed to rejection as I had imagined her to be. Then again, Stark’s criteria for selecting people was hardly worth mentioning. Lee and the other woman had left, but had been replaced by the assassins. I made my way down the stairs as quietly as possible, eager to see what was happening.

The girl broke the silence. “Mr. Stark, do you really intend to offer me a job or not?”

“I just offered you one.”

“What? Image and reputation management for Loki of Asgard? _That’s_ the job? You know, if you don’t like me, you can just say no and save us both the breath and time!”

I grinned, unable to resist making my way towards the group. Such indignation! Such disbelief! I had never watched the previous PRs being interviewed, but if this had been their reaction, then I had missed out on a lot of fun.

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“ _Because,_ ” she spat, “do you really expect me to believe you want me to work for the guy you took down for trying to take over the world?”

“Yep!”

“What do you take me for? An idiot?” she screeched. Oh, my. She was very loud when she was angry and frustrated, especially so when she thought she was being made a fool of. She was not as meek and mousy as I had first imagined.

“He’s not lying.” Romanov said. “Loki is here now.”

“Loki is here?”

“Yup. He crashes our place now.” said Barton, disgruntlement radiating from him. It only heightened my anticipation for what chaos was going to break out when I let my presence be known.

“What do you mean ‘he’s here’?” the girl asked. She was not the brightest star in the sky.

“Exactly what it says on the tin, kid.” Stark said. “Loki of Asgard, would-be conqueror of planet Earth, is back in NYC, living right here, right now, in the Avengers Tower. Only this time, we’re hoping he talks about being a goth emo on WNYC rather than sermonise a crowd of terrified people after plucking out an old dude’s eye. That's where you come in.”

As usual, Stark’s ramblings went in one ear and out of the other. I paid them no heed, choosing to study the girl instead. Romanoff and Barton finally noticed me and it was beyond exciting to see their faces pale, not out of worry for themselves, but out of concern for the girl, who looked like she was going to jump out of her skin any moment. Stark followed their line of gaze and oh, if I had thought the look of worry on the assassins’ face was pleasurable, then it was nothing compared to the satisfaction of seeing the babbling man finally run out of words to say.

“ _Loki is here?!?!”_ she shrieked, oblivious to the furious gestures the three were making at me.

I merely winked at them and stepped right behind the girl, bringing my head next to her ear. “Indeed, he is _right here._ ”

She turned around slowly, as if in a dream. I could almost feel her vibrating in her skin. She looked up, eyes as wide as the apples of Idunn, with nothing but terror dancing in them. They flit all over my face, as if unable to understand who or what she was looking at. Her breath hitched.

“Is there something you wish to say to my face, mortal?”

And then she screamed.

By the Norns, did she scream.

As if someone had lit a fire under her, she jumped away and away from me, and then again on to the counter. What by the Yggdrasil was she doing, kicking the air as if it were water she was treading? It was as confusing as it was hilarious. She paused to gulp down more air, then renewed her screaming. If I hadn’t known I was the cause of her terror, I would have imagined that she were having a reaction akin to Caitlin’s.

Before the thought of her could sober me, I turned my attention back to the girl. “I was wondering where all the shrieking was coming from. It seems as if I have found the source.”

I stepped towards her, and her struggling heightened. It was hard to miss her flaying legs, but this time, my eyes travelled slightly upwards. I was met with the curious sight of her, so delirious with fear that she had cast away all shreds of propriety and sat in a skirt with her legs spread wide open.

Truly, there was nothing to see. Her skirt dipped low enough in the middle to cover everything important and even if I had crouched, all I would be able to see would have been her thighs. But she did not have to know that, did she? I had never seen any of the PRs react so deliciously to my threats and actions, leave alone my mere presence, and I was not going to pass up the opportunity to see how else this one was going to react.

With exaggerated slowness, I let my eyes run down her legs. Had Mother been here, she would have thwacked me for terrorising the chit, but she would have gone on to geld me if she saw me look at a woman with even half the disregard with which I was looking at the mortal. But she was not here, was she? And I had not had this much fun in so very long.

Stark stepped right in front of me. His face was far less appealing than the girl, however bare or covered she may be. Still, I took my amusement from his discomfort.

“Alright, that’s enough, Reindeer Games. Go back to your room and play with your puppets.”

Perhaps a day would come when I would cease to be so irritated by the man’s dull monikers and jests, but today was not the day.

“Ah, you brought me a new servant.” I inclined my head towards the girl, who let out a small whimper. “You are a more generous host than I gave you credit for, Stark.”

“Okay, she is not your servant and if you do anything to treat her like one, I will make sure you are chained up like the criminal you are.”

“Careful, now,” I purred, “or the wench might end up wetting herself from excitement.” She did sound like she was going to wet herself any moment now.

“What are you, king of ‘Innuendom’?” Stark said.

"You truly think you are up to the task of handling me, girl?" I asked, relishing in the sounds of fear she was making. “Or has Stark here kept you in the dark about what you are supposed to do? Judging by your reaction, I would say the latter. Stark does love his secrets."

“If you have nothing better to do, just get out, man,” Barton said.

“Oh, I just thought I would acquaint my new servant with her master. She should be thanking me on her bended knee for granting her the opportunity to serve me. "And she does look _thrilled._ "

The girl buried her face in Romanoff’s chest. Her response was making up tenfold for my ennui and disenchantment with the mortals. Maybe there was more fun to be had with these PRs, especially if I could hijack the future PRs’ interviews.

“Loki, enough,” Romanoff growled. “Don’t make me get Thor to use you as a weapon rack for Mjolnir.”

I glared at her. Of course, the Odinson had not been too slow to tell everyone about all those moments in our childhood and youth when he had put his hammer on me to immobilise me, leaving me to endure his and his friends’ scornful laughter, to say nothing of how he deployed that same tactic during our final fight at the Bifrost. _Thor Odinson,_ always keen to make others laugh and present himself as the glorious hero, even and especially at my expense.

The Agent’s words had achieved their intent of putting a stop to my mocking, for I was no longer in the mood to play. But soon, very soon, it would be them groaning and grumbling. I would make sure of it.

“Once you are fed up with the babysitting, sweetling,” I addressed the girl, “I will show you what the grown-up world is like.”

“Loki, out!” Stark barked.

I took a step back. “I will go back to my ‘puppets’ now, Stark, but I do so look forward to playing with a new toy.” I retraced my steps back to my rooms, making sure to look the girl in the eye and basking in her fear.

_Until tomorrow, little girl._

* * *

 

“Oh, look, the mortals summoned me,” I said pleasantly as I strolled into the room again in the evening, flanked by the SHIELD nincompoops.

I was ‘allowed’ to roam about the top ten floors without needing an escort on the weekends. But today, Stark had ordered me to appear. He had known I would not have responded to his orders, which was why he had commanded the SHIELD guards to fetch me. Why he thought I would heed them – be I with my powers or without – in the first place escaped me, but I did like playing his games, letting him think that he was winning.

“What can your god do for you?” I added.

Stark rolled his eyes while Romanoff and Barton contended with shooting me a look of annoyance for a brief second.

“Brother,” Thor began. He occupied an entire sofa on his own. “I heard what happened today.”

“Did you? How astute of you.”

“Loki, your hardheadedness will be the ruin of you.”

“Are you finished? Because I do have a lot going on in my life right now – oh, wait, I do not, because I am perpetually confined to my chambers.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Stark piped up. “You want us to play nice? Why don’t you try playing nice for a change?”

“Saving the universe is not nice enough for you, Stark?” I retorted.

“I don’t know, should it be, oh rightful King of Jötunheim?”

“And then you have the nerve to act offended when I threw you out of the window.”

“Loki!” Thor exclaimed and jumped up.

“What?” I snarled. “Oh, how little has truly changed, brother. After all this, you continue to take everyone’s side but my own.”

The oaf’s eyes expanded comically and he thundered, “Who vouched for you to be king when I abdicated? Who vouched for you when no one believed you when you said that the Dark Elves’ attack was imminent? Who vouched for you to the very people in this room when you were allowed to complete your sentence by gaining redemption?”

“And I am truly grateful,” I said savagely, “to have first dined on the scraps of Odin and now live by the mercies of his son.”

“Okay, I hate to say this,” Stark intervened and walked up to us, “but I have zero interest in this latest episode of Vikings. Look, Russell Brand,” he addressed me, “you knew what the deal was: keep your nose clean, be good and be a contributing member to the team – which includes making up for your crimes on Earth – in exchange for us letting you live out your sentence away from your shitty father with more freedom than what you would’ve got in an Asgardian cell, and us putting in a good word for you when the time came for you to take the throne.

"So far this has been a very one-sided relationship. Even you have to admit that the rewards look very good for you. So, if you want this deal to stay intact, you will need to play by the rules. The new PR will start from Monday. You will do as she says, you will not make her life hard and you will not threaten or harass her in any way – and you will _not_ look up her skirt, do you hear me? This is your last chance. _The_ last chance, because if you screw this up, you get a one-way ticket straight back up that rainbow bridge of yours.”

In lieu of an answer, I rolled my eyes. So the chit had joined. Why? Did she really think she could make a difference and endear me to this planet? And did Stark think we really had a deal? Even if I did manage to ‘redeem myself’ and was allowed to contribute, this cohort of copulatives was never going to trust me. My contributions would always be moot. And even if they did trust me somehow and implored the entire universe to ‘put in a good word’ for me, Odin would still not let me assume the throne just to spite me.

“Brother,” Thor said softly, his eyes brimming with pity, “You are not alone. Let us help you.”

“Fool,” I said quietly, “I have always been alone.”

Having said that, I departed, imagining the glances and conversation the four must have exchanged once I was out of earshot. I was resigned to enduring more of this folly. The chit would be gone by the end of the month, but let Stark come to that conclusion himself. I was not going to engage with her in any way. 


	2. That Time We Remembered the Idiots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki waits for his new PR to make an appearance. Read this chapter on [Tumblr](https://saiansha.tumblr.com/post/185298979472/a-pr-million-clients-would-kill-for-ch-2).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set pre-chapter 4 of JMPWD.

I did not wait for her.

Nevertheless, I decided to sit in the living room. Reading a book in that living room provided some modicum of change of scenery. This way, I would also be able to see the girl’s reaction as soon as she stepped in. I wondered how she would react when she saw me sitting casually, engrossed in my book. She was skittish and easily startled. Would she wear a skirt again? I smirked at the thought. It had been a long time since I had had fun. Well, not a long time; just over three months.

Since when had three months become long for me?

Perhaps since I had swapped one glass cage for the other.

“Would this not be better than spending an eternity reading, as you said?” Mother had asked, when she had convinced Odin to send me back to Midgard.

Except, here I was, _reading_.

I did not deny my own efforts had been less than sincere. The throne was finally mine by right and not even Odin could deny me lest people began asking questions. Oh, he would try to find a way to depose me, I knew, but he would not succeed. I had to wait only till the next Odinsleep and then Asgard would be mine. Would it have hurt me to make peace with the mortals? No, but no amount of regret on my part would have satisfied Odin. He was determined to punish me for my birth and actions.

My actions did not deserve mercy, but my motives deserved an ear. He had been quick to sentence me to a cell for eternity, never once pausing to question himself and his own prejudices. He still had one eye, yet he was so blind.

Mother had the best intentions when she sent me for this supposed redemption, yet I could not help but wonder if she were blind as well. What good would seeking redemption do? The rest of the universe cared little about Midgard. The mortals’ memory was as short and limited in scope as their lives. A decade ago, an attack had occurred in this very ‘city’ and they had chosen to prejudice and prosecute. And now, after my attack, they had chosen to venerate and worship these Avengers.

Never mind how Stark had made his fortune from enforcing that same prejudice and prosecution. Never mind how Barton reeked of hypocrisy when he spoke of family, yet went on to orphan and widow countless others. Never mind how Rogers was the very embodiment of humanity’s stubbornness to not change and the desire to put the individual’s needs above all others’. Never mind how Thor’s hands ran far redder than mine ever would and how he enjoyed waging war. Never mind how Romanoff talked about repaying debts, when all she had inflicted was loss.

Humanity was blind too.

As was I.

Blinded by hatred, anger and jealousy. They made for poor qualities in a ruler – and there was an abundance of them in Thor. And I was weak, so weak. I had not been even close to the height of my full power then. Thor had not noticed, not that he would have. Odin had only garnered satisfaction out of it, as if it were he and not Thanos who had reduced me to less than nothing. Mother had not commented either. That had hurt. I supposed I should have expected it, though, from a woman who did not have the better sense to tell me of my birth in the early years.

These ‘PRs’ who were here to overturn my reputation were blind to the truth that no overturning was possible. Humanity greedily consumed the lies Stark and his friends had sold them and gorged itself on veneration, worship, prejudice and prosecution. 

Or perhaps, they knew this too. If they did, then that made them no better than me. They would deal in half-truths and three-fourths lies, boast to their friends and family that they had done their service for humanity under none other than Tony Stark and celebrate their ‘success.’

And then they called _me_ the God of Lies.

It was a moniker I did not mind living up to, but the irony was apparent. I did not lie about myself. I did not present myself as a creature worthy of love. I did not pretend that I had done much good. But I was surrounded by liars and blind men and women who wanted to present me as capable of all that.

The new PR would be much of the same. So, I did not wait for her. I merely whiled away the time thinking what lies she would present and how quickly I would untangle them and show her her own selfishness and sanctimony. I did not want company, but I supposed it would be mildly entertaining to see the whelp do her mummery.

The first day I thought of the woman who had started all: Andrea Collins.

She was only memorable because she was the first of her ilk. In all other respects, she was unremarkable. Simpering and saccharine, she thought sweet words and pretty smiles were enough to win me over. She had thought she could teach me what passed for manners on this planet.

“You know, on Earth, we shake hands when we first meet,” she had said in that sickeningly sweet voice, a smiler faker than any of my illusions on her face, her hand dangerously close to my personal space.

“Withdraw your hand or I will withdraw it for you,” I had said coolly.

Her smile had wobbled, but steadied soon. “It’s just a shake, you know.”

“I will shake you by your throat if you do not move away. Now.”

Still, I had to thank her for introducing me to the one semi-drinkable beverage on this rock: coffee, the same beverage that Thor was so fond of. She had got it for me on her first day. I had soon discovered to my delight that there were many different ways to consume coffee and many different ways to prepare it.

Andrea’s time with me came to an end when one fine day, I decided I did not like my coffee.

“This is revolting,” I said and threw it on the floor next to her. “Get me another.”

“But it’s the same way you like!” she said, outraged by my seeming lack of manners.

“It is not the same way I like it, you pox-brain.”

“I beg your pardon!”

“Do not bother.”

“Loki, you can at least say ‘please.’”

I advanced towards her as I had towards Stark. “ _Please_ bring me my coffee, or I will grab you by the neck and throw you out of the window behind me – just like I did with your employer Stark.”

The new PR did not appear that day, even though I had been told she would start from Monday. Liars, all of them. Maybe she would come tomorrow – not that I cared.

The second day I thought of Andrea’s successor: Michael Mathis.

Like most men on this accursed stone of a planet and most men back on Asgard, Mathis firmly believed that he was a boon granted to his species. I had seen enough cocky, self-assured and loud men – the most memorable examples being Fandral, Volstagg and my dear brother himself – to know that he was going to be insufferably in love with himself. While that was bad enough, this man was on a mission: to make me fall in love with him.

He would call me a ‘big guy’ and act as if he could understand me.

“I know, man,” he would say with that stupidly sincere expression on his face, “shit’s rough. You’re not meant to be trapped, big guy, and I’m here to get you outta here. You and me: we’re going to be a team.”

Every time he called me a ‘big guy,’ I would use some seidr to give him an electric shock. Eventually, I managed to condition him out of calling me that. Some of his antics did make me laugh, though, like when he bargained that if I participated in some idiotic scheme of his, he would help me get a ‘hot date,’ whatever that was supposed to mean. Or, like the time he told me that if I cooperated, he would get me my own ‘radio show and hordes of fans.’

And then one day, he decided to touch me.

“Oh come on, pal, it’s really simple. You smile and talk nice and do exactly as I say, and you get to go home free and I get to go home rich. It’s that simple, really.”

“Watching you be poor would be far more entertaining.”

He gave an obnoxiously loud laugh. “That’s funny! See, Loki, my pal, you have this amazing dry sense of humour that we can totally milk. People dig that! Especially women – women love a tall dark broody man with a sarcastic streak.”

“You are boring me. Leave.”

He laughed again. “Okay, man,” he said and clapped my back. I stiffened, and so did he.

I threw the coffee I had been drinking on his face and pulled him by the scruff of his neck, so that he could hear me above his screams of pain.

“Touch me ever again and I will do worse than this to your face. Now get out.”

He lasted for six weeks.

Yet again, there was no sign of the girl. So, I entertained myself with the memory of my third PR on the third day: Chen Li.

Chen, to her credit, was not as obnoxious as her predecessors, although that was not saying much. She had done her research and come on the very first day with a coffee and some books, and after handing them over, she had had the good sense to leave. She was quiet and I realised taking advantage of her niceness was the way to go. I harangued the woman all hours of her work day, demanding her to fetch more coffee, or a new book, or a new lamp, or a bookmark which was the exact shade of the green I was wearing that day, or a dishcloth which coordinated with the undertone of the carpet.

And when she got out of work, I would sneak into Thor’s apartment and use his communication device to make the most outlandish demands in all hours of the night. Thor would end up receiving the most unexpected gifts; it was rather funny to watch his reaction at receiving a dictionary. And just to make sure he did not get suspicious, I would manipulate the device to make it seem as if Stark or the others were also calling her or writing to her to fulfill their needs.

The poor thing quit three weeks later.

On the fourth day, I started giving up the expectation that the new PR would ever come. Still, I decided to continue with my reminiscing with the fourth of the lot: Rhea Alvarez.

Rhea was the dullest of the lot. There was not much fun to be had with her – until I discovered that Rhea was also the name of a bird species native to the planet. There had been a long interlude between Rhea’s arrival and Chen’s departure and I had started using that time to explore the effectiveness of the restraints on my seidr. I had discovered that I was not as powerless as I had thought and that there were still simple spells that I could do.

So I performed a charm wherein every time that Rhea spoke, to her it sounded like she was making bird noises, but to the others it merely sounded as whatever words she was speaking. I did it slowly, steadily. One squawk, one hoot at a time. It went on and on until she refused to speak to anyone and thus, had to resign from her post.

Little Rhea flew away from the nest five weeks later.

The new PR did not come on the fifth day either, but that was fine, for I had the memory of Caitlin Michaels to content myself with.

I admired her. She had nerves of steel and was determined to succeed. She did not try being overly nice to me, nor did she try to sell me her work as a mutually beneficial transaction. She was content to not speak with me as long as I let her do her work. When I demanded my coffee from her, she would calmly reach for her phone, make a call and five or so minutes later, the coffee would appear. When I demanded her to arrange my bookshelves – which I had specially disarranged before she had come – she told me she was too dumb for that chore.

I could not find a clever way to contest that without contradicting myself.

She was stoic and unpredictable. She accepted my insults quietly, never smiling or frowning at anything I said. I threw coffee over her laptop once and she merely shrugged. I winked at her, trying to throw her off guard with the same clumsy mannerisms that Mathis had used, and she merely kept staring at me. I turned the living room upside down and demanded she clean it and she merely called the maid – and just as calmly summoned the SHIELD guards when I threatened I would throw her out of the window if she did not do it herself.

She was immovable and it was as annoying as it was impressive. Had I really grown so complacent and used to the empty brains of the other PRs that I could not budge this one lone woman? Was failing to take over this primitive planet not a shame enough that now I could not even bring one mortal to her knees? Were my wits rotting away along with my patience and appetite for life during my imprisonment?

And then one day, I was practicing my seidr and recreating some animal noises to see if they would startle her. Caitlin paid them no heed, but then, when I changed the soft meowing of a cat to the buzzing of a bee, she went pale and for the first time, I saw terror in her eyes.

“What is that?” she asked.

“What is what?” I asked innocently.

“That! That buzzing noise! Where is it coming from?”

“There is no buzzing noise, Caitlin. Perhaps you need to retire for the day.”

I smiled at her triumphantly and my smile only widened as I watched her leave in hurry for the first time since she had joined.

The next day, I asked Thor to fetch me a beehive. The buffoon bought my excuse of wanting to study them out of interest and flew far and wide till he managed to get hold of one.

The following day, I presented the hive to Caitlin.

I did end up studying the creatures. They were fascinating. I saw that their stings could hurt, but my skin was thick enough to withstand an attack from the entire nest. Besides, they did not attack without provocation. They were such docile and small creatures – how could anyone be afraid of them? I found it so satisfying, however, that after almost three months of failing to get a rise out of her, I had finally found the most ridiculous weakness possible.

She had already settled into the sofa when I walked out from my room, carrying the hive. She paid me no heed until I had put the hive on the table, and by then, it was too late. She leapt from her spot, so alarmed that she knocked off both the hive and the table. Her rabid screams and the shattering of the glass were enough to agitate the hive, but then she started flaying her hands madly, which further added to the chaos.

I could not remember when I had last laughed so hard. Mortals, I thought, with derision but also an odd fondness. They were dull creatures, but no one could deny that they were highly entertaining. I could finally see why Thor was so fond of them. I laughed so hard that my stomach started hurting, until I saw they had started attacking her. The attack itself was not enough to cut through my glee, but her reaction was.

She had collapsed on the floor. Her skin was red, her face swollen and she was wheezing piteously. Her face kept getting redder and I realised that she was not able to breathe. I swooped down to her side, shielding her body with my own and trying to check her pulse.

“Caitlin! Caitlin!” I cried. “Breathe, girl! Breathe!”

I put my hand on her chest. It felt constricted. I considered trying to remove any constriction with my seidr, but I did not want to reveal that I still had some of my powers. Besides, this was no ordinary reaction to a bee sting. I did not know Midgardian physiology well enough and to interfere would perhaps put her in more danger. She had passed out now and her pulse was very faint, so I picked her up, ran to the door and called for the SHIELD guards.

Thor had come to see me later that evening.

“Did you know this would happen, brother?” he asked quietly.

“No,” I replied, just as quietly.

It was true; I had not anticipated her almost dying, after all. It was a half-truth, just like Odin’s drivel about my birthright to be a king was a half-truth. He had intended for me to be the king, just not of Asgard.

I checked that line of thought. Since when had I started linking every deed, every action, every reaction to what Odin had promised or not promised to me as a child? I had lived for a thousand years, but why was it that promise that always came back to haunt me? A woman had almost died and countless others had actually died because of that promise that had been such an integral part of my life. Since when had I become so cruel? I had enjoyed my pranks and tricks and it had been particularly amusing to humble the arrogant and embarrass the liars, but I had never been so ghastly, at least not in my mind.

So what had Caitlin done to deserve this treatment? She had just been doing whatever her peers had done, just more effectively.

Thor’s sigh broke my line of thought. With a sigh, he got up and walked out. He said nothing, but it was clear that he was disappointed. 

Sentiment, I spat at myself.

Caitlin was just as self-serving and blind as the others, I had reminded myself then and I reminded myself now while I sat alone with my thoughts, waiting for the new girl to come. There was no reason to feel sorry for either of them. There was no use in being cruel, but there was no point either in drowning myself in regret. All I needed to do was get out of here. It was this prison that was bringing out the worst in me, I told myself. But not even the God of Lies was a good enough to lie to himself.

I just needed to focus on regaining my seidr as covertly as possible, wait till Odin fell into his Sleep and then I could leave this planet and the painful memories associated with itself and everything would be fine. It would be fine. I would make sure it was fine.

I knew that the girl would not come on the sixth day, for it was Saturday, but still I decided to pay my tribute to the memory of my last PR: Aaron Tyler.

There was not much to say about him, save for the fact that he served the shortest term of them all: two weeks.

I did not do or say much to him. He decided to leave of his own volition, which suited me well. It was better for everyone and my own peace of mind that I be left alone. I was better off being lonely rather than being forced into others’ company.

I was not even truly lonely, I reminded myself. It was just three months of welcome solitude. If I could survive an entire year under Thanos’ thumb, what harm would three months and more of silence do? I was patient and patience was all I really needed to tide over this episode of my life. So no, I did not wait for the new girl to come, but I did plan my revenge for keeping me waiting.

I was fine, but a little zest of mischief had never hurt even the staunchest loner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism is welcome =)


	3. That Time We Christened Her Little Worm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki finally gets to threaten and bully you. Read this chapter on [Tumblr](https://saiansha.tumblr.com/post/186894867632/a-pr-million-clients-would-kill-for-ch-3).
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corresponds to chapters 4 and 5 of JMPWD.

The girl had come.

I let her stew in silence by herself for half an hour. If I had waited a week, then she could afford to wait for a few minutes. She had dressed in green, likely in an attempt to soften the edge of my temper by showing my colour of choice. Unfortunately for her, I was impervious to her pathetic efforts to influence me. She hopped around on one foot and then the other, occasionally stopping to take a short walk across the living room. She spent the time wrapped in her own thoughts. Sometimes, she would frown to herself and then suddenly break into a smile, her eyes glassy.

What an imbecile.

I watched her through a slight gap in the door to my bedchambers. A little before the clock struck ten, she snapped out of her daydreams and headed straight towards me. I retreated to the bathing chamber.

The door opened so slowly that even I, who was proficient in patience, was tempted to jump out and pull it open for her. But no; I had a better surprise up my sleeve.

“Mr. Loki?” she whispered.

I smiled.

She scampered to the other side of the living chamber, calling for me in the dining hall. I waited till she started making her exit, then sneaked up to her. Before she could call for the SHIELD agents to let her out, I covered her mouth and wrapped my arm around her neck.

“Off so soon to sing tales, little bird?” I whispered with barely restrained glee.

She tensed, which did not surprise me, but what she did next did. Her knees buckled and I would have thought it was out of stress had she not made a most curious attempt to grab my groin. I retaliated and she made a slight choked sound. I had thought that was the end, but she clawed at my arm, tried to turn my hand and stomped on my foot. She would have doubled over from the pain had I not been holding her upright.

What in Hel’s name was she doing?

I had thought that there was nothing interesting about this imbecile who had spread her legs for me – in a manner of speaking – and had been so distraught that she had not even been able to produce one coherent sound just a day prior, but it would seem that she had some spirit.

Perhaps she was here to stay after all.

She made a set of noises that sounded similar to ‘Let me go!’

I laughed. “Look at you, squirming and wriggling like a little worm.”

Little worm – I liked it. It would be her name from now on.

“Urgh!” she exclaimed. I heard her clearly this time.

I laughed again and looked up into the camera. Why had the guards not intervened? Perhaps they were afraid? Or simply negligent? Either way, I hoped they were enjoying the performance. I winked at the camera, acknowledging my anonymous audience.

I slid my hand down to hold her by her arms, but maintained the hold over her mouth. She was quite the screamer, and I did not want it to snap the agents to attention just yet.

“Are you not happy that your god is introducing himself to you so thoroughly, my servant?” I asked. She did not reply, so I continued. “I know you are fond of screaming,” I said deliberately giving the conversation a sexual undertone. I hovered my hands up and down her thighs. “But if you scream now, I will bring out the knives and trust me, you will not like that.”

I dropped my hand from her mouth, hoping that she would have the sense to not scream. Either way, I knew it would be entertaining.

She turned around sharply, chest heaving and eyes bulging. Then, she calmed herself, but with no little outrage, said, “I’m not your servant!”

“You come dressed in my colours and like the others before you, you are paid to serve me and handle my affairs. Is this not what a servant does?” I queried.

“I do not serve you.”

“No? Then do you serve Stark?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed. I grinned as I noticed the rapid change in her expression as she realised she had just validated me. “I mean, no! I work for him.

“So does a servant for her master.”

“Yes, but I get paid.”

“I never said you are a slave.”

“Yeurgh!”

I shot her a warning look and she settled once again. She was not unlike a feral dog being tamed.

“What is wrong with you?” she barked.

“Only the fact that you are in my chambers without invitation or permission,” I said seriously.

Of course, she did not have to know that I was waiting for her for a week to rain misery on her.

“I am supposed to be here.”

My lips twitched. “Pray, tell me, why are you supposed to be here?"

“Mr. Stark –” I began.

“I do not care what Stark dictates. Begone.”

“You are here because of his generosity!” she snapped.

Well, I was not expecting that.

Most of them at this stage would have rushed to explain who they were and what they were here to do. They would explain how it was necessary for me to work on rehabilitating my reputation and how they would take care of everything as long as I cooperated. Mathis had laughed and said he sympathised with me and could understand why I hated Stark when I had said something similar. Caitlin would have shrugged. The others would have quietly left.

But this one had actually snapped back. Then again, I had not attacked any of the others without a provocation, taunted them and looked up their skirts.

How interesting.

And how utterly infuriating. I could not let it slide.

I marched up to her and tilted her head up. “And, you are here at my mercy, worm.” I snarled. “Are you not?” I repeated when she said nothing. I could see she was getting intimidated.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Mr. Loki,” she hissed.

I chuckled. “Oh, I like that. But that is not the term of address I was looking for, little one.”

With a scowl, she amended, “Yes, sir.”

My lips settled into a wide smile. She might have been an imbecile, but there was no denying that she was fun to toy with. “Why, how charming. I have rarely been called ‘sir’ before. I like that too, but I do prefer ‘sire’.”

“Well in 21st century Earth, we say ‘sir’. No one uses ‘sire’, not even for the royalty.”

Was she truly trying to banter with me? It wasn’t half amusing. “Oh, but you still address your royalty, as emasculated as they have become now, as ‘Your Majesty’. Go on, then. Show me that you understand that I am the king.”

“You ask for too much,” she hissed.

I laughed softly, wondering how far I could stretch this until she collapsed once more into a state of panic like she did yesterday. “It is hardly too much in exchange for your worthless little life.”

Terror clouded her eyes. “You won’t kill me. Tony won’t let you get away with it.”

Now she was trying to negotiate with me. How quaint.

“No,” he agreed, “But you will still be dead at the end of it, won’t you?”

I felt more than heard the sob that threatened to come out of her.

“If you kill me, you’ll be stuck here inside the Tower forever.”

I studied her more closely. Now that her face was not contorted into strange expressions as she bawled and screamed, I could see she was not terribly displeasing to look at. There was also a sharpness in her gaze, which hinted that she possessed some modicum of intelligence, even if I had judged her to be an imbecile. She was not particularly daring or bold, but she was interesting.

"Oh, you naive little worm." I smiled. She truly thought I was going to be imprisoned for decades here, that too because of her probable death. None of them knew that my seidr only grew stronger by the day. None of them knew what was coming for them. "You have no idea about the real reason I am here."

"I know exactly why you're here." She looked confused as if she was herself surprised at what she had said.

“Oh, really? Do share.” When she did not clarify, I tightened my hold over her neck once more and lifted her off the ground. “Tell me.”

The response was instantaneous. “You’re here because of Thor!”

“Is that all?” I asked and lowered her back to the ground. I had hoped for something more interesting than that, but how would she know the circumstances involving Thor’s abdication and Frigga’s intervention on my behalf? “A lowly servant who cleans the room could have told you that. You think you are well-informed, but you are as dull and obtuse as the rest of the mortals here. I will be out of here long before you think and your _precious_ Thor will gladly escort me back with all the pomp and splendour due to me."

“Fine,” she said. “But Tony will still make your stay here very uncomfortable if anything were to happen to me."

What a hard negotiator indeed. She was scared witless, but she was still struggling to talk her way out of this – and that was something I could appreciate. Would she be like this tomorrow? And the day after? I looked forward to finding out. Perhaps I should let her go for now as reward for good behaviour.  

“You are right. Killing you will be ill-advised, but I can still make your life very inconvenient.”

“Please,” she groaned at last.

I grinned. “Please what?”

“Loki, please.”

And here I had thought that she was doing so well. Tsk. I glared at her and dug my fingers into her neck painfully. “So, is it ‘Loki’ now?”

“Please, sir,” she begged. “Please.”

I stared at her for a few moments. Then, with a laugh, I finally let go. “You are dismissed.”

I had said I was a merciful god, after all.

She kept staring at me confusedly as I relaxed in the sofa. “I –”

“You may leave.”

“I… I wanted… I wanted to introduce myself. I am your new PR. I mean, your new public relations officer. My name is –”

“I know who and what you are.” Her confusion deepened and I decided to put her out of her misery. “I read it on the visitor card you were wearing last week.”

“Oh.”

So she still wanted to stay? True, if she had managed to crawl to my chambers after I had scared her so thoroughly and been able to argue with me while I was threatening her so diligently, then it was not too surprising that she had decided to continue. But was this because she was spirited? Or was this because she really was an imbecile?

“I know what Stark wants you to do. I have watched your predecessors’ efforts to ‘rebrand’ me with amusement, but I am bored with the charade now. I will not intercede you, but I will not help you either. Do as you will. I know you too will fail. And for the Norns’ sake, do not expect me to do anything for you. I am under no obligation to be kind or even civil to you,” I added, thinking of Andrea.

“Okay.”

“You will address me as ‘sir’. And you will bring me a beverage of my preference every day at ten in the morning. You will not enter my chambers a second before ten.” The restriction on the time of entry was arbitrary. I just wanted to keep her in a state of fear.

“Fine. What do you like drinking?”

“Well, that is for you to find out, is it not?” I said cheerfully. Her expressive face lit up with indignation before I added, “I will say that it has what you mortals call ‘coffee.’”

“Fine. But you have to be here at ten sharp. Unlike today.”

Had the wretch gone back to thinking she could order me? “Are you giving me orders?” 

“No!” she said, suitably horrified.

“No, _what_?”

“No, sir. But please, we need to be more punctual. Sir.”

I could practically see her writhe on the inside from being so deferent. It was going to be a lot of fun playing with her.  "Oh, that was just a little taste of your own medicine.”

“What?”

“I was expecting you to enter my service last week. If you can be a week late, why can I not be half-an-hour late?”

She gaped at me. “You’re impossible,” she said exhaustedly.

I chortled. “I am very possible. Now get out.”

She complied. I remained sitting where I was, anticipating the chaos that would ensue once Stark discovered what had happened. True to my estimate, Stark burst into my quarters two hours later, fully armoured. I could see his look of fury and outrage clearly, even though his face was hidden behind the metal mask. The lights in the palm of his hand slowly turned on and before I could smirk at his distress, I was blasted to the glass wall behind me.

The crash of the sofa and the shattering of the glass table masked the grunt of pain that escaped me. Stark climbed over the fallen sofa, letting the glass crunch under his feet for dramatic effect, then aimed his hand on me once more. Another blast hit me and I was pushed into the wall on the left. The impact my body made with the wall made the painting shake and crash to the floor. 

I wheezed a laugh as I watched him prepare, once more, to shoot at me. But before he could, Mjolnir flew in, hit Stark in the back and sent him flying into the glass wall next to me. My laugh turned into a scowl, for I truly did not wish to deal with Thor and his idiocy at the moment.

Thor walked over to Stark, lifted him and held him against the glass. I noticed the worm and her keeper, Stella Lee, trail in.

“What is the meaning of this, Stark?” Thor growled.

“Why don’t you ask your precious, prodigal brother, Point Break? Actually, don’t. He’s just going to lie his way through this like he has through everything else.”

“You dare question my brother’s change of heart again?” I winced at how piteous that sounded. What use was a brother who could not defend you well?

“That is implying that he has a heart.”

“If the two of you are done discussing my organs or lack thereof –” I intervened.

“Shut up, Loki!” “Brother, enough.”

Thor let Stark go. “Is it normal for Midgardians to harass guests to whom they’ve pledged meat, mead and protection?”

More melodrama from Thor. Perfect.

“Is it normal for Asgardians to harass the people who work for me?” Stark barked.

“What?” He frowned and slowly turned to me. “Brother?”

Before I could answer, Stark interjected. “Don’t ask him. Ask her.” He gestured towards the worm.

I looked at the girl and smiled to myself as she took in this new travesty that she was being dragged into.

“Oh god,” she spluttered.

I could not help but pipe up, “Which one?”

“Zip it, Marilyn Manson,” Stark said. She must have understood what this moniker meant, for she snickered. “See, kid? It’s okay. I got your back. Tell Thor what Loki did.”

I looked at her, curious. How was she going to talk her way out of this one? Or was she going to share the entire gory story? She turned to look at me and I made my expression as neutral as possible. I was interested in seeing what her own genuine, spontaneous reaction would be, unaffected by what I was doing or saying.

“Forgive me, my lady, but we have not been introduced yet.” Thor said.

“Oh, we have,” she replied. “Er, you bumped into me slightly at Tony’s party last Saturday.”

“Oh, yes, of course!” He said cheerfully, but I knew the buffoon had no idea what she was talking about. “I apologise unreservedly for my actions, my lady.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay. You apologised already.”

“I did?”

“Yeah.”

I rubbed my face in annoyance. Like called to like and my brother had finally found another idiot to surround himself with – as if the Avengers and that Darcy Lewis woman were not enough. Any hopes I had had for an interesting response from the worm dwindled significantly. It was curious how she ended up disappointing me when I was hoping to be surprised, but surprised me when I was least expecting it. And I still could not decide whether she was consistently an idiot or she really was brighter than she looked.

“If you two are done being polite,” Stark interrupted, mercifully for once, “Can you get on with it, kid?”

“Yeah, I’m his new PR,” she said.

“Oh, Norns,” Thor groaned.

“No, no, no,” Stark said, back to interrupting annoyingly, “you gotta listen to the next part. Out with it, kid.”

“Yeah…” she said miserably, wringing her hands. “I entered his apartment today to introduce myself. I was waiting for a long time but he wasn’t there. I decided to leave, but before I could, he grabbed me from behind and choked me. He let me go after I promised not to scream. Then he grabbed me again… And yeah… he let me go.”

My lips twitched at her lacklustre storytelling. I doubted she was showing any self-preservation instincts, for if she had had those, then she would not have talked back to me when she had come in earlier. Perhaps she would speak up more once I was out of earshot.

“ _Loki!”_ Thor bellowed and lifted me up in the air by my throat much like I had lifted up Stark – or much like how he would lift me in our childhood when he finally lost the last of his patience with my pranks. Despite myself, I smiled a little at the memory. I thought about quickly turning it into a scowl, but then I changed my mind, figuring that Thor would interpret the smile as me being unfazed.

“Oh my god!” The women screamed.

“All this time and you have still not learned your lesson!” Thor roared.

“I would argue for the opposite, brother. Whereas once I would have simply killed the mortal and not have given her a second thought, now, I let her go. She can still walk and, sadly, talk. She is also free to do whatever work she pleases."

“Oh, thanks for giving her the permission to do her work!” Stark retorted. “Really, that was all she was lacking.”

“You abuse Stark’s hospitality,” Thor continued. “Worse, you abuse your freedom. Mother taught you to be better than this!”

I had had enough of Frigga being brought into every single discussion as if the mere whisper of her name would make me hang my head in shame. I was no boy who had been caught playing with the knives at the dinner table. Just because she had pleaded for me, it did not mean that Thor or anyone else could use her name to ‘correct’ my behaviour. Frigga had done what she had wanted to do – and I did what _I_ wanted to do. If anyone thought I was so indebted to her that I was going to start acting contrary to my nature just to please others, then they were wrong.  

“Don’t drag mother into everything!” I snarled.

“Do you think she would be proud of you? Do you think she would be happy you are back to not respecting mortals and mortal lives?”

Oh, it never was enough for Thor, was it? He who was so used to getting everything without even lifting a single finger! No matter who all I saved, no matter how hard I tried, it never would be enough. And this here was the crux of the problem: I had saved the universe, but it was still not enough for anyone. Not Thor, not even Frigga, and certainly not Odin. 

I could have worked with the PRs and decided to have my reputation be improved, only to be met with disappointment for not having done more. I could have even apologised for my crimes, only to be told that I was acting selfish and entitled for expecting that I would be forgiven. I could have worked to bring peace to those affected, only to be told that nothing I did would ever be enough.

So what was the point, really?

“I saved your Jane Foster, did I not?”

“So, you just stop after having saved one mortal?”

“What do you want me to do? Gather them into my arms and wet nurse them?”

“I am asking you to treat them with respect! It is nothing that you are not capable of and nothing that goes beyond your duty!”

“It is not my duty!”

“It will be! Eventually!” Thor protested, reminding me of my impending kingship. “And you will do as you ought to do or else –”

“Else what? Will you go –”

I was going to ask him if he was going to retake the throne from my hands – much as how he had taken away anything that I had worked for harder or deserved more than him – but Stark interrupted us once more.

“Okay, that’s enough, Macbeth and Macduff. As fascinating as it sounds, I don’t particularly care for this Asgardian soap opera at the moment. I need you to bring your brother to heel, not start an angsty drama, Thor.”

Thor let me drop to the ground. “Loki, apologise to the lady.”

“Excuse me,” Stark said. Damn that man and his constant interruptions! “But, she deserves more than a petty ‘sorry!’”

“Um…” the worm voiced.

“Fear not, Stark, my lady. I assure you, this is the best way to punish Loki for his misdemeanours.”

Stark nodded, apparently having warmed up to the idea of my humiliation. “Say sorry.”

Just when I thought Stark and Thor could not give me any more reasons to hate them, they always proved me wrong. I was angry at both of them, but most of my fury was reserved for Thor. He knew that this apology would vex me more than any other ridiculous task they would command of me. He knew what would hurt me the most and he was supplying the enemy, the outsiders with that information.

Then again, I was an outsider, was I not?

I was never family.

And King of Asgard or not, I never would be.

It was alright, I told myself. It was just a circle. You started with hoping that becoming King would finally solve everything, then you came to the depressing realisation that nothing would truly be solved, and then you went back to believing that everything would be solved, for there was no other way to go and no other thing to believe.

And even gods needed something to believe in.

“Does the ‘lady’ wish for me to apologise?” I asked, noting how strained my voice sounded.

“No! There’s no need, please,” she exclaimed. Everyone, save I, turned to look at her.

“Kid, you don’t have to go easy on him. In fact, you _shouldn’t_ go easy on him.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“No, it’s not. I won’t let him mistreat you or anyone else on my watch.”

“Mr. Stark, please,” she said, formally. My ears perked. “I’m not denying it was bad and wrong and distressing, but it’s over now. I’m guessing this is the first time something this extreme has happened, right?”

Oh, if only you knew, little worm.

“Yes, but –”

“So, let’s just give him the benefit of doubt, okay?”

Give me the benefit of doubt? Stark’s hypocrisy truly knew no limits. He had enlisted the girl to work for him on this fool’s venture of lies and half-truths without even telling her what had happened to her predecessors? It was fitting, I suppose, that she was being lied to while being expected to lie to the rest of the world in turn, but it was still especially dishonourable – and dangerous. Stark was so desperate to get what he wanted that he did not even care that he was putting this girl in such danger.

Oh, but when I showed the same ruthlessness, I was deemed the oppressor. The villain.

Hypocrisy at its finest.

Even the woman, Stella, who was far more sensible than her employer, said nothing. What was wrong with these people? Had they no shame? The girl was under far more danger from them, for they were wittingly submitting her to misery and violence, than she was from me. It appeared that people with power had no qualms about using innocents and children to advance their nefarious agendas, be they Stark, or Thanos, or Odin. I felt a twinge of sympathy for the girl. It was not fair.

Immediately, I scoffed at myself. ‘It was not fair?’ Since when had life ever been fair? If I could survive all the horrors that I had, then surely, this girl would be able to survive me. She would emerge the better for this ‘unfairness.’

“You don’t need to do that!” Stark said.

“I’m his PR; I have to,” she said. I finally looked at her. So she had confirmed she was not leaving. Why? “Look, if I’m to do my job, I want him to cooperate with me. Forcing him to apologise is not going to help with that. Even if he did apologise, I don’t think he would mean it. And, he did say that he wouldn’t intercede my efforts. So, I guess that’s something.”

No, she was not an imbecile, I decided. She might not have been cunning or brilliant, but she was sensible and mature enough, despite her youth. She was not exceptional, but she knew her own mind, and was assertive in her own quiet way. For some reason or the other, she had decided she wanted this job, and I knew she would determinedly fight to keep it.

“If he has threatened you –”

“No! No, he hasn’t. He has just asked me to bring him coffee.”

That was an understatement, if I had ever seen one. She wanted this job badly, I could tell, but why? Was it really worth the money and Stark’s hand on her shoulder?

“I just want to do my job, guys. And you have your own stuff to do, too,” she added.

Stark was not convinced, but eventually, he conceded to her. “Okay, kid. Just this once. But if he does anything, anything whatsoever, I want you to tell me everything. Your safety is more important than dealing with his tantrums. Oh, and,” he turned to me with a glare, “I don’t care if Thor hangs around, trying to defend you, but if you so much as try to prick her finger with a spindle or even look at her funny, I will give ‘Asgard’ a whole new meaning.

I rolled my eyes at the ham-handed attempt at wordplay.

Thor nodded. “And I promise I will not stand in your way, Stark, if Loki does anything to harm his PR again.”

“Right!” Stark declared. “Come along, kid! Let’s get you some ice cream! You deserve a treat after this.”

The entourage left without any further words. The maid and some other staff came in to clean the debris. I could have done it myself with my seidr, but this was Stark’s mess, not mine. Besides, I could not reveal that I still had powers. I retreated to my bed chambers and picked up the book that I was currently reading. I could not focus on the words, however, for my mind kept going back to the girl.

See you tomorrow, little worm, I thought after a while, and I finally turned the page.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to make POV requests in the comments. And again, constructive criticism is absolutely welcome =)


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